I awoke to grey
Like a winter shawl
Thrown over Spring
And I stared out my window
And worried
As grey can make me do
But as I looked
It all became so clear
That it was more
A silver cloak
Subdued
And letting
All the Springness
With softest palette
Come through
The slightest hints
Of tender green
Became
A vibrant hue
And tiny little teardrops
That laced along the
Branches of the rose
Dazzled me
With their solemnity
And I bid each one
Good Day




Sara Mathews     March 2016